Practice, Practice

On Feb. 6-7, Jay-Z will play Carnegie Hall, becoming the first hip-hop solo headliner. Ticket prices range from five hundred to twenty-five hundred dollars, though profits will go to the United Way of New York City and a scholarship fund Jay-Z created. I do, though, have a quibble with my favorite rapper. As thrilled as I am for Jay-Z and his wife, Beyoncé, on the occasion of their first child, Blue Ivy Carter, I think it’s creepy that they corralled her into a pop song hours after her delivery. The song in question, of course, is the overpraised “Glory,” which, aside from some moving lines about Jay-Z’s father, is the kind of schmalz we would barbecue anyone else for releasing. It’s especially frustrating given the recent upswing in Jay-Z’s rapping—the Kanye West collaboration “Watch the Throne” reinvigorated the m.c., who had been otherwise occupied with buying homes and basketball teams. In fact, it’s Jay-Z’s proximity to power, rather than to art, that makes some of us nervous. Jay-Z doesn’t need Carnegie Hall, but rap could use him. The game needs him. ♦